


more than yesterday. twice as much tomorrow.

by actuallyshua



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyshua/pseuds/actuallyshua
Summary: There was a quote Seungwoo once read.A small blurb that lay in a shaded block on the second to last page of one of the dozens upon dozens of baby books that were now collecting dust on their shelves.“A child’s love could simply be one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.”Seungwoo wished that quote wasn’t listed under “Unknown.”Because he would like to have a word with them.He would say thank you.He would say.“You’re right.”Or -Seungsik and Seungwoo discuss the future.
Relationships: Choi Byungchan/Do Hanse, Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik, Heo Chan/Im Sejun
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	more than yesterday. twice as much tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello !! 
> 
> thanks for checking out this fic. i love kid fics and i love victon so. here we go.  
> this is also my first time writing seungwoo as the main character so i hope i did alright.  
> this one was a lot of fun !!
> 
> also i'm not messing around with the fluff tag.  
> this might rot your teeth out.
> 
> enjoy ~

There was a quote Seungwoo once read. 

A small blurb that lay in a shaded block on the second to last page of one of the dozens upon dozens of baby books that were now collecting dust on their shelves. 

_“A child’s love could simply be one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.”_

Seungwoo wished that quote wasn’t listed under “Unknown.”

Because he would like to have a word with them. 

Seungwoo loved his children. All four of them. Tears would prick the corners of his eyes at the very thought of something happening to any of them. 

The photos that lined the walls of their home told stories of love, laughter, of hope and dreams all coming to life right before he and Seungsik’s eyes each time a brand new baby was placed in their arms. In their family. 

He knew Seungsik wanted a large family. He could recall the conversation as though it were yesterday despite the years chipping away at him. It happened over dinner, a casual one as it was far from the first, when they knew that this was it. 

This was forever. 

Seungwoo had never really thought of himself as a family man.

But like the way he folded his t-shirts and learned the best types of laundry detergent, Seungsik changed his mind. 

And so. Here he was. 

Wondering about all of those beautiful sounds. 

Because whatever was happening in his kitchen made him sigh, rub his temples for a moment, and rise from his desk with a groan. 

The thing about raising four boys was that things were often...

Messy. Loud. Utterly chaotic. 

When they’d meet with their friends, he’d watch Byungchan with his daughter. Delicate bows in her hair and the way she always said her please and thank you’s in a voice that was meant for heaven. 

Hanse would be telling a story of how the angel who walked among them picked him flowers at the park the other day. 

His eyes would wander. 

To a pile of dirt. 

And his son elbow deep in it. One of them with a pile ready to go in his mouth. The other two mercilessly wrestling their favorite Uncle Chan to the ground. 

To reiterate. Seungwoo loved his children. 

“What are you doing?” He asked blankly, catching Hyunki redhanded with a bag of flour in his hands, his mirror image Hyunshik on the floor with a look that resembled a deer in the headlights. 

“Baking!” 

Seungwoo narrowed his eyes at the two, “Baking? You can’t bake without me or Dad in the kitchen with you. And where are your brothers?” 

Hyunshik stood up and Seungwoo gave him a quick once over, assessing any potential damage. 

The eldest of the Han clan, the twins were approaching nine years old and everyday challenging Seungwoo over their newfound sense of independence. 

Sure, they didn’t need him to brush their teeth or pick out their outfits. They rarely even asked him for help with their homework these days. But surely, if Seungwoo knew anything about parenting at this point, allowing two boys who thought that fire was _“cool”_ to man the oven by themselves would be nothing short of. 

Stupid. 

“We wanted to bake Dad a cake!” 

“Minjun is watching cartoons and Joowon is still napping. Geez, Papa. Don’t you know where your kids are?” 

Seungwoo placed his palm atop Hyunshik’s head, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Don’t challenge me, child. I’m fully aware of everything that goes on in this house.” 

Just to be sure, not that he needed to, as he said he was definitely fully aware, Seungwoo glanced over the kitchen counter and into the living room. He was relieved to find Minjun still seated on the floor, eyes alight at the sing song of the cartoons that were on the television. 

“Right.” Hyunshik shook himself away from his father’s grip and rejoined his brother, “Can you help us then? You said you only needed ten minutes to work and it’s been thirteen!” 

He couldn’t, really. Seungwoo hadn’t done much while seated at the cluttered desk he called his workspace. But he looked at his sons, at the small bits of flour that peppered Hyunki’s face, at their wide eyes and smiles. Moments that would leave him soon. 

“Why are we baking a cake for Dad?” He took the flour from Hyunki and placed it on the counter, “It’s not his birthday for another three months.” 

Taking their father’s vague agreement in stride, the boys set to work. Hyunki pushed the small stepping stool up to the counter, attempting to face Seungwoo but still failing. They had a few more years ahead of them before Seungwoo had to deal with that. 

“Just to be nice. Dad always makes cakes for us so we wanted to make one for him.”

Seungwoo glanced down to Hyunki, then to Hyunshik as he grabbed the carton of eggs from the refrigerator. He wasn’t quite as sappy as his beloved husband, but something about that made him melt. 

They raised good boys. Seungsik raised good boys. 

Every piece of gold that lined the man’s heart had been transferred into their small ones. They were kind like him, patient like him, understanding like him. 

Seungwoo should remind Seungsik how grateful he was for that. It had been a while since he last did. 

“That’s really nice of you, kiddo. I hope you say that to Dad, too. He’ll really appreciate hearing that.” 

Seungwoo wasn’t a baker but he had the wherewithal to prop his iPad against the counter and pull up a rather excitable step by step. He tried to keep his hands mostly clean, sensing this was something they wanted to do on their own, so much as they could muster. So he started and stopped the video whenever they were ready, set the oven, turned on the mixer. 

Minjun joined them after a bit, hearing all the laughter and deciding his cartoons didn’t cut it anymore, even cracked an egg with his tiny hand covered by Seungwoo’s. 

It was easy. It was fun. 

Just as it should be. 

Seungwoo even managed to get away without a smudge of batter on his clothes as he heard the familiar mummering from the baby monitor. 

“Baby’s awake!” Minjun pointed to the device, a proud smile on his face. 

Freshly six, Minjun was the child that Seungwoo, to put it delicately, struggled with the most. Babies were never easy, not by a longshot, but they were lucky with the twins. Easy to rest no matter whose arms they were in, always eating no matter who was feeding them. Playful with everyone they came in contact with. 

But Minjun was Seungsik’s son before anything. 

Seungwoo was never able to get him to rest on the nights he’d wake up screaming and when the time came for Seungsik to return to his full time job, he remembered in agony how he tried to get the boy to even look at him. 

One of the few times it was him shedding tears instead of his boys, he sat in he and Seungsik’s bed as his husband reminded him that he was loved by all their children. 

He didn’t doubt that anymore. 

Because Minjun would happily hold his hand as they crossed a busy street. Would ask to play airplane almost every single night. Would drag Seungwoo out to the backyard to practice soccer. 

Joowon, the mummering and stumbling two year old from the monitor, was the easiest. Always napping, always eating, rarely crying, the two men wondered if maybe there was something a bit...wrong. 

Surely four times they couldn’t be this lucky. 

“Hey.” He turned to the culprits of most of the trouble that loomed in the household and the twins looked away from the oven, “I’m going to get Joowon. Don’t touch anything.” 

“Aye aye, captain!” They spoke in unison, Seungwoo rolling his eyes a bit at the display. 

With Minjun hot on his heels, he poked his head into Joowon and the other’s shared room, smiling as the boy was sitting up in his crib, hair a mess and sleep still thick in his eyes. 

“Good morning, sleepy head. Did we wake you up?” 

He lifted Joowon up and brushed some of the unruly hair down, “At least one of us is well rested.”

“Hey daddy.” Seungwoo looked down to see Minjun holding up a stuffed rabbit, a new one that quickly became a favorite, “Can I bring this with me tonight?” 

“Tonight? Do you have plans?” Seungwoo laughed a bit, setting Joowon down as he was waking up fully and becoming restless in his arms. 

Minjun furrowed his brows at this, looking awfully serious beyond his years, “We’re going to uncle’s house!” 

Seungwoo took pause and allowed the words to sink into his mind. Uncle’s house. 

Of course.

The plans that Seungsik had told him about two weeks ago. 

The plans that Seungsik had reminded him about just this morning. 

The plans that he was supposed to have the boys ready for by five o’clock. 

He glanced at the Spiderman clock on the wall and the reality of time being completely against him struck him like a freight train. Four boys in two hours. 

Seungwoo had done it before. But not without a fight.

“Right! Yes, of course. I’m sure they’d love to meet him. Hey.” He grabbed Joowon again, much to the child’s dismay, “Do me a favor and pick out an outfit, okay? You remember how to do that?” 

“Yeah! I can do it all by myself.” 

“Of course you can, big boy. I’ll be right back.” 

He’d gotten used to moving swiftly while balancing his strength. Kids in his arms, books in his hands, backpacks hanging from any available area, soccer and baseballs tucked anywhere they could be. So darting back down to the kitchen with Joowon bouncing around was a small feat, really.

“I think the cake is done, papa!” Hyunshik shouted as he saw Seungwoo enter the kitchen.

“Awesome! I’m going to take it out. We have to let it cool down for a bit, alright? Can you two go get showered up?” The twins exchanged confused glances but suddenly everyone in the room was distracted by an all too familiar noise. 

One that Seungwoo was hoping he had at least an hour and a half before hearing.

“Boys? I’m home!” 

“Dad!” Hyunshik and Hyunki darted towards the front door, Seungwoo catching a flash as Minjun rushed on their tails. 

“Minjun! Your outfit!” 

But that didn’t matter.

Nothing else did when Seungsik came home. 

Of course, Seungwoo understood how they felt completely. He was used to his days as the bottle juggling, hair washing, peanut butter and jelly making stay at home dad. Used to it. Because the feeling of being used to something didn’t always mean it was easy. 

Seungsik made more than he did. 

By miles. 

So, when the boys started to grow, he had to return to his office with the perfect view of the city and a secretary who always got his coffee order just right. He knew the view and coffee didn’t make up for how pained he was to leave them. 

He was a natural at this. This whole parenting thing. 

Seungsik came into view, two boys attached to his legs and Minjun in his arms, with a smile on his face that Seungwoo thought could move mountains. 

“Hi.” He offered up brightly.

“Hey. You’re home early.” 

“The office was dead. I see my boys are still a bit sticky.” He gave Seungwoo a knowing look, to which Seungwoo groaned and ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” 

Seungsik tutted the two oldest off of him and set Minjun down, all three still corralling around him as he approached Seungwoo and patted his cheeks with both hands before planting a feather light kiss on his nose. 

“You look like you might cry over this. What did you think I was going to do? Yell at you? You know me better than that!” 

He did. He really did. 

“I just don’t want you to stress about it.” 

Seungsik hummed, “The only thing I’m stressed about is the smell that’s coming from the oven.” 

Seungwoo breathed out a choice word for only the two adults to hear before unloading the now slightly overcooked cake from the oven, swatting away the small puff of smoke that followed. 

“Awh, man! Papa! Our cake!” 

“Oh.” Seungsik drawled out, “A cake! Is this for tonight? You know I already bought them a gift, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“We wanted to bake you a cake.” 

And there it was.

The sticky sweet sap.

Seungsik was never much of a crier when they were dating. A sad movie would get to him from time to time. Those drawn out commercials about abandoned animals would send them both into hysterics. But he was strong, stronger than most. And controlled his emotions like he’d lived through several lives and learned how. 

Maybe he had. Seungwoo wasn’t sure about that yet. 

But with everything in his life, children changed that. 

Now, it wasn’t all that shocking that a simple sentence made his eyes well up. 

“You wanted to do that for me?” 

Hyunki looked towards Seungwoo, his brother’s eyes following, like he was looking for reassurance. Seungwoo nodded a few times with a small smile. 

“We thought that you always do it for us so we should do it for you.” 

“My sweet boys.” Seungsik knelt down and wrapped them up in his arms, “Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you. Thank you. Why don’t we decorate it and bring it to Uncle Sejun’s house? I’m sure they’d love that.” 

“We can give it to the baby!” 

“Baby’s can’t have cake.” Hyunki retorted, to which Hyunshik replied, “Yes they can!” 

“Their baby can’t have cake just yet.” Seungsik stood up and wiped his eyes quickly, “She’s still too little. But I’m sure everyone else will happily eat it.” 

“Not to be the buzzkill but do we have time to decorate?” Seungwoo gestured towards the kitchen clock with a hand and Seungsik bumped his hip gently.

“There’s always time to decorate.” 

And there was. Joowon even got to put his own spin atop the cake, a rather large pile of sprinkles around the edges, something Seungwoo was sure only Chan would appreciate. 

“There!” Seungsik clapped his hands, “All done! Oh, isn’t it darling?” He leaned against Seungwoo, who laughed and snaked his arm across his husband’s shoulders. 

“None of our friends baked us cakes for having babies.” 

“Not true! Subin sent us one when we got the twins. And Hanse and Byungchan literally showered us with gifts. After three and four, saying congratulations was sufficient enough.”

The boys scurried about to get ready while Seungwoo and Seungsik retreated to their own bedroom, Seungsik changing out of his work clothes and into something more fit for a casual night with friends. 

“How do you think Chan and Sejun are holding up?” Seungwoo asked as he watched Seungsik decide between two sweaters. 

Boring, some would say. 

Blissful, Seungwoo would. 

This was married life. And it was stunning. 

Because it was the way Seungsik still wrinkled his nose up at the prospect of a choice. Just like he did on their first date and he couldn’t decide between the salmon or the steak. 

“I think they’re exhausted and worried and confused.” He smiled, settling on the dark blue one, “Just like we were. Chan was texting me all day asking if it was normal that she was burping so much.” 

Seungwoo let out a laugh at this, “Sejun called me to ask if it was okay that they were standing over her as she slept?” 

“Oh, I remember when you did that when we brought the twins home. Remember that? I couldn’t pull you away from those cribs no matter what.” 

“Don’t start teasing me. You’re the one who woke me up at three in the morning because Hyunki sneezed and you wanted to take him to the emergency room.” 

Seungsik joined him on the bed, sitting down with a huff and leaning his head against Seungwoo’s shoulder. A moment of silence and Seungwoo’s eyes landed on the framed photo on his nightstand. All six of them. Wrapped up in winter coats with the snow falling behind them. 

Their first winter in this house. This house that had empty bones. Brand new with not a single memory of yesterday in its walls. They were the first to set foot here. The first to cry and fight and bake and laugh. 

He wasn’t sure if this was forever. Sometimes it felt like the walls were creeping in on them. And the boys couldn’t share rooms for very much longer. 

Wherever they ended up, whoever followed in their footsteps on these creaky hardwood floors would be the luckiest family in the world. 

To enter into such love. 

“We should get going.” Seungsik patted his thigh gently, sitting up but not before more peppering of kisses across Seungwoo’s cheek, “I can't wait to get my hands on that baby.” 

As it was, Seungsik literally couldn’t wait. 

Because as soon as they entered the home of Chan and Sejun, the rosy cheeked baby was nestled neatly in Seungsik’s arms. 

It was always hard to keep up with. Visiting their friends. 

Remembering who he’d already said hello to, making sure his boys didn’t accidentally get stepped on in the action, reminding them to give the baby some space. Remembering where his own baby was. 

He looked around to find Joowon sitting happily in Subin’s arms, playing favorites with him from the jump. Not that Subin complained. As Chan was the twin’s favorite and Minjun seemed to highly favor Byungchan these days. 

“Hi Uncle Seungwoo.” 

Seungwoo almost jumped at the sudden voice from the ground, looking down to see Byungchan and Hanse’s daughter. Of course she was the only stable one in the mass of chaos. 

He was never quite sure how she handled all of this. 

At least now she had an ally. Another girl to stand by her side while the Han boys tried to show off the cool worms they found or how many times they could spin around without falling over and, usually, injuring themselves. 

“Hey there, sweetpea. You look beautiful!” 

“Thank you. Daddy bought this dress for me yesterday. It’s my new party dress.” Choa smiled brightly up at him, enough to swallow him whole. A surprise to no one, the little girl had all of her uncles wrapped around her finger. 

Her fathers were a different story. 

He was sure Choa could ask for the world and Hanse and Byungchan would deliver it to her on a silver platter, no matter the cost. 

“Well, I love it. Have you had a chance to hold the baby yet?” 

Choa nodded quickly, “She’s so cute! She’s a lot smaller than when I met Joowon.” 

“Jowoon was a big boy, wasn’t he? Hey!” He was cut off by Chan enveloping him in a hug, “There’s the new dad. How are you holding up?” Seungwoo backed up, holding his friend at arms length, “You look exhausted.” 

“You all warned me about being tired. I had no idea. Choa, your dad’s looking for you in the kitchen. I think he wants help eating all of our food.” 

The little girl rolled her eyes at this, off to fetch Hanse from forcing the group to order takeout instead, and Seungwoo patted Chan’s head a few times, ruffling his hair. 

“Fatherhood looks good on you. Eye bags and spit up stained shirt aside. I’m going to try and wrestle the baby away from Seungsik.” 

Chan snorted at this, nodding his head towards the man, “Good luck. With the way he’s looking at her, I’m guessing baby number five will be here before we know it.” 

It wasn’t too far from the truth. 

Seungwoo could see that from where he was standing. 

Seungsik had that look. Eyes glazed over with nothing but pure adoration, index finger wrapped up in tiny, pink tinted fingers. Not even looking at Sejun as the man was talking to him. 

Like Seungwoo, Seungsik adored his children. 

Every fiber of them. 

But there was something different in the way he looked right now. The way he interacted with Choa. 

He wanted a big family. 

He wanted a daughter. 

“Hey.” Seungwoo spoke in a much quieter tone, approaching the three on light feet, “Are you going to give her up anytime soon?”

“I don’t think he’s going to give her up to _me_ and I’m her _father_.” 

“This is my baby now.” Seungsik looked towards Sejun, a playful tint to his voice that held much more weight than anyone but Seungwoo knew, “Thank you for doing all the hard work of going through the process for me!” 

Sejun let out a fake laugh, direct and blunt, “Very funny. You can stay up all night feeding her and changing diapers, then.”

Seungsik would. In a heartbeat. 

“What’s her name again?” 

“Sooyun.” Sejun looked down at her, “Chan picked it. It means beautiful lotus flower.” 

“It’s perfect for her. Little flower.” 

Seungwoo and Sejun shared a look before Seungwoo reached his hands out, plucking Sooyun from his arms because he knew there was no way Seungsik was going to willingly let go. The man let out a noise of defeat before almost immediately drawing back to his state of awe. 

Quick to join him, Seungwoo was immediately enraptured by the bundle of blankets in his arms. It had been a while since he’d seen a new baby, his own growing up so fast right before his eyes. 

It seemed like everytime he blinked, the twins grew an inch. Minjun learned a new independent task. Joowon learned a new word. 

He and Seungsik thought about adopting a dog. Something fluffy. Something energetic to run around with them in the backyard. 

But this. This was so much better. 

“You thought I was bad?” Seungsik’s voice cut through his thoughts and he looked up to see him nudging Sejun, “Look at him!” 

“You’re both terrible. Come on, give me my baby and let’s eat dinner.” 

Dinner went exactly the way Seungwoo knew it would. 

Fast paced, loud conversations, even louder laughter. He would eye Hyunshik from his spot, his son known to always feed Subin’s dog under the table. 

Seungwoo remained mostly silent, only speaking when spoken to but far more content listening to the tales of new fatherhood from his friends, watching the way Seungsik leaned into all of them. 

There was a familiar glow about him. One he’d seen five times before. 

One he relished in. 

One he loved more than anything. 

“Seungwoo.” His husband’s voice pulled him from his dreamland and back to the dinner table, “Everyone’s going to take the kids to the living room to blow off some steam. Can you help me clean up? I don’t want Chan and Sejun to worry about it.” 

It wasn’t really a question and he knew that, but no matter, he agreed quickly and gathered a few dishes in his hands. 

“You guys got it?” Subin asked, stuck in the middle ground between the childless adults in the kitchen and the chaos of the living room. 

Seungwoo laughed at the uncertainty, “Go on. Go play favorite uncle for a bit. We got it.” 

Despite the different setting, Chan and Sejun’s kitchen still felt like home. 

Maybe because he’d been here more times than he could count.

Maybe because he and Seungsik were wordlessly passing dishes back and forth, high pitched laughter in the background balanced out by the soothing sink water running. 

He knew what Seungsik was thinking. Too afraid to say it outloud. 

“She’s cute, huh?” 

Ease him into it. 

Seungsik looked up from the plate he was drying, “Oh. Of course. She’s a doll. They’re lucky to have her.” 

“She’s just as lucky. I think Sejun’s already gotten her enough toys to last her well into her thirties.” 

Seungsik laughed at this, plucking another plate from Seungwoo’s hands with a shake of his head, “It’s not about that. Her luck has nothing to do with the amount of _things_ they have for her. You know that.” 

Of course he did. 

Seungwoo turned the sink off, grabbing a towel to wipe his hands before leaning back against the counter. 

“I know you want more kids, Seungsik.” 

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, nothing to run from. Seungsik looked more like one of their children who’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. If he wasn’t trying to maintain an environment of seriousness, Seungwoo probably would’ve laughed. 

“I’m perfectly happy with our family.” 

Seungwoo let go and rolled his eyes, stepping away from the counter and to Seungsik, hands gracing the other’s hips gently.

“That’s not what I said. Nor would I, or anyone with eyes, question that.” 

Seungsik flattened the collar of Seungwoo’s shirt, a nervous habit of keeping his hands in motion, with a gentle sigh. A smile on his face that Seungwoo could see was dripping with hints of sadness, “I don’t know if we have enough room for another one.” 

“Then we’ll move.” 

A much more exasperated sigh escaped this time, “You say that like it’s nothing, Seungwoo!”

“It’s not nothing. But it’s what you want. I can get a real estate agent on the phone first thing tomorrow.”

“You’re being ridiculous. Don’t fill my head with pipe dreams, please.” 

It sounded almost angry. And Seungwoo was quick to reach out as Seungsik tried to walk away from him, leaving this all in dust. But it couldn’t be like that. Because it was fester in Seungsik’s mind like a sore, leaving him uncomfortable and restless. 

“I’m being serious. I promise. Listen to me.” He was still gentle with his touches, in moments like this he had to be, lacing their fingers together like he had the night of their first date. 

It kept Seungsik present, kept him safe, “I know everyone likes to joke that a lot of our marriage is me nodding along with whatever you have to say. But we know it’s not. We’re a team, you and I. A damn good one. And I want this just as much as you do. Please, trust me when I say that.” 

Seungsik observed his eyes, looking for deeper answers than his words would give him. Back and forth back and forth between the two before settling down. 

“Five kids?” He breathed out, and the heaviness was lifted, “You really think we could handle that?” 

Seungwoo knocked their foreheads together gently, relishing in a moment of peace between the two of them that was hard to come by. Would be even harder to come by. 

“If anyone could, you know it’s us. I think the boys need a girl around that’s not their cousin to keep them grounded.” 

Seungsik laughed at this, light and airy, full of love and hope and visions of the future. 

“I love you.” He started.

“More than yesterday. Twice as much tomorrow.” Seungwoo finished. 

That was that. For now, at least. Decisions made without actual confirmations as they usually operated. He knew he’d wake up tomorrow to see Seungsik sitting at their kitchen table, the boys running around him as he’d be on his second mug of coffee.

Houses pulled up on laptop. 

Favorites already starred. 

They’d look at them, go on some visits, until they found the perfect one. 

Just enough bedrooms, the perfect bathrooms, the right backyard for Seungwoo to once again sweat and groan and swear in as he built another swing set. 

They’d decorate another nursery. 

They’d have another talk with the twins. 

Everything would change. 

And yet, nothing would. 

Because Seungsik was the pillar. The constant. As long as he was there, love remained blooming like flowers in the spring. Remained falling and collecting like the snows of winter. 

Seungsik tried to drag him back to the living room but he just shook his head, saying he would take care of the rest of the cleaning. The boys were restless without him.

A kiss, all he needed, and then he watched as Seungsik joined their friends. Their family. 

Minjun was all smiles, the twins all laughter, Joowon all floppy hand claps and still mostly toothless giggles at the sight. 

There was a quote Seungwoo once read. 

A small blurb that lay in a shaded block on the second to last page of one of the dozens upon dozens of baby books that were now collecting dust on their shelves. 

_“A child’s love could simply be one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.”_

Seungwoo wished that quote wasn’t listed under “Unknown.”

Because he would like to have a word with them. 

He would say thank you.

He would say.

“You’re right.”

**Author's Note:**

> using my incredibly predictable motif of same beginning, same ending.  
> what can i say.  
> i'm a creature of habit and i always love writing in that style. 
> 
> anyway !!  
> heres my [twit](https://twitter.com/KOSHlNWXN)  
> feel free to drop by
> 
> comments and kudos always appreciated <3


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